Chapter Text
A dark celestial bot uncaringly trudged through the remains of a burnt-down Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex.
The walls still stood strong and the roof continued to shield the lower floors, but broken rubble and charred grime covered much of the ground. Certain light fixtures shattered and the windows into the Glamrocks’ old changing rooms partially melted, matching many of the silvery blobs that used to be faux golden statues. Whatever empty floor left that didn’t crunch beneath his heel echoed a loud tap of soles against linoleum into the otherwise silent space.
The rays of the red and black daytime model shuffled and clicked in response to the occasional sounds, lazily dragging his optics over the sights and scenes he slowly passed by. They were nothing he hadn’t seen before, either in their prime or in their current dilapidated space, but the simple absorption of visual stimuli kept him entertained enough to keep on walking.
He wasn’t entirely sure what his goal was here. He had returned to the Plex many a time post-fire, though typically only to Parts and Services for the scraps and tools that had been left behind. Not only he but other thieves and scavengers had long since stripped it bare of its resources, and yet he still found himself back here once again.
He was almost certain he and the rats, both literal and figurative, were the only ones to visit this place anymore. The Glamrocks now had their own lives outside this place, the Celestials as well— even the massive DJ and its numerous mini-me’s had been relocated/sold to a new owner once it was finally salvaged. That had disappointed him just a little bit; he’d been tempted to repurpose it for his own reasons. The mini’s would surely be useful. Or maybe he’d just repair it and get to know the guy, since he’d never been able to interact with it before.
He raised an arm to cover his eyes as a sliver of light poured through a random crack in the far wall. Faintly, he could hear a gentle rain pattering down on the asphalt outside, and he grimaced at the thought of having to walk back home through the downpour. Anywhere and anytime else and he would’ve had his car to come back to, but for some reason he enjoyed the silence of walking to and from this place. Curse him for finding enjoyment in things, he guessed.
Now wanting to put off leaving for as long as possible, the animatronic headed deeper into the abandoned Plex.
He had entered through a miscellaneous employee entrance somewhere near the backend of the building, so it was only time until he found himself at the entrance. Not that it was able to serve its purpose thanks to the various boards pinned to the doors. A few spots of storm grey light filtered through the hundreds of posters he could only see the backs of pinned to the windows around it.
The escalators obviously no longer functioned, and they even shifted a bit with his weight when he started to make his way up one of them. He traced the patterns on the carpet with his toes, turning as he walked and lifting his feet in a lazy mockery of ballet. When it turned into more linoleum, he traced the dark lines around each tile instead until he was once more following the grime-dulled squiggles and shapes.
Before he knew it, he stopped, looked up, and the barely standing statues of Sun and Moon met his gaze. He brushed off the way he startled for a moment on instinct and continued, passing by the slide and the cubbies and the torn line dividers. He traipsed down the steps and glared up at the empty space where red netting used to hang, listening to the growing echoes of rain filling the otherwise empty area.
Yet, he still didn’t stop, finding himself stepping through the doorless doorway into the daycare.
Much of this place had been stripped bare as well, though no thanks to the scavengers that occasionally traversed these walls. No, the real reason the jungle gyms and the security desk and other such things were missing was because the Celestials had repurposed the materials for their new daycare.
There was a hole in the ceiling from some miscellaneous disaster other than the fire, if the lack of charred edges in that particular region had anything to say. The ballpit was partially filled with accumulated rainwater by now, and as he approached, he grimaced at the hints of green algae growing in the uneven dips of the pit’s floor. He wouldn’t be surprised if he saw other creatures skittering about in the pool, so he decided not to stick around long enough to encounter them.
The wire obviously hadn’t been functioning in ages, and it therefore gave no response to the halfhearted ping he sent out. Not that he expected it, but there was no hurt in giving a minor, meaningless attempt.
He climbed up the wall instead. Hooked his claws into the decaying decals beneath the balcony and heaved himself onto the surface. In any other scenario he would’ve used the secret entrance behind that movie poster in the theater, but a majority of the theater had collapsed by the time he last visited this place— especially in that particular hall, no matter.
He was slumped over on the balcony, uncaring to pull himself up, as he rolled his head to look into the space. Just like the area below, most belongings here had been taken away the moment their owners left for good. No more couch, no more scattered toys and blankets, no boxes of crafts and supplies or amateur drawings pinned to the walls...
Since no one was there to watch him, he grabbed the railing bordering the balcony’s “indoor” section and dragged himself forward until he was falling over the edge of it. He lazily fell in a disorganized heap of limbs on the dust-coated ground before he effortlessly untangled himself from it, taking a few steps further into the space.
Sun’s bedroom door was missing just like the ones to the daycare, revealing just as barren and empty a space as everywhere else. If it weren’t for the fact he knew it for himself, he never would’ve assumed anyone had lived in there at all.
The only place he didn’t have an immediate view of was Moon’s room, and so he dropped down to crawl in there without a second thought.
Unlike Sun’s room, there were still some signs of inhabitance left behind. The mattress, although naked of bedding, still sat in the corner. There was still a desk, but nothing sat on its surface, and the arcade machine was still there too.
Eclipse centered a glare on the unassuming piece of machinery.
He stomped over to the arcade machine and found himself kicking at its side panel, “Hey, shitheads! Moon still got you connected to this thing or what?”
Not that he expected them to respond regardless of the answer, but he heard nothing activate inside the box of technology either way. Bitter feelings built in him at the thought of something so simple had held so much power at a point; interdimensional travel placed into the nonexistent hands of a couple rudimentary AIs ready to use it for their own mischief at a moment’s notice.
And Moon had practically just... left the bulk of it behind? There was nothing stopping Eclipse from using it for himself, or even just destroying that family’s ability to connect with their alternative selves. Though that’s saying as if they hadn’t clearly gotten their fill of multiversal shenanigans long after they took in that... that—
He kicked the metal box with a bit more force than intended, but he didn’t really care. Maybe he should just break it and leave it non-functioning forever— obviously they already got what they wanted out of this thing. They left it all behind for a reason. What more use could they have for it?
He kicked the arcade machine again, leaving behind a noticeably sized dent this time. He raised his foot more purposely and bashed his heel into it, grinning as the metal tore and his leg sunk into its components.
Still, no signs of life from the ones who used to inhabit the device.
So he went hog-wild. He grabbed the machine and threw it to the ground on its side, kicking in the screen with a cackle. He forced his hands inside and tore out whatever he could, ignoring the way it would crackle and spray sparks and him on occasion.
Its casings were bent and ripped apart, gutted like a fish. Anything that could be shattered, was. Wires and bolts and other various pieces were scattered about the floor until it was empty, and then he continued bashing in the plastic and metal until it resembled something like a crumpled soda can.
He was panting slightly by the end of it, and he took several minutes regaining his bearings before he finally calmed again. No longer caring enough to look back on his work, he crawled right back out the tunnel and into the main room.
Just as he was pulling himself onto the balcony, though, he heard the telltale sound of the portal activating below.